Carving out an identity

"Carving is easy, you just go down to the skin and stop."

-- Michelangelo

Self portrait 12-13-13

"We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others 

the image we long for, need, love or desire, 

often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment

because it does not fit them."

-- Anais Nin

The last time I carved a linoleum block to make a print, I cut the crap out of my finger.

And by "cut the crap" I mean eight stitches and almost a severed tendon.

That was June 29th. I have a scar on the inside of my left index finger to prove it, a scar that still twinges and tingles every now and then, and which hurts like a sonofabitch whenever I bump it just right ... or is it wrong?

It's taken me until now to muster the courage to carve another block. But this time I finally got smart and came up with a crazy, kooky scheme. 

I wore gloves!

I know. It's a madcap. It's extreme. But wouldn't you know? It worked.

Look Ma! No bloody slashed digits!

When I told Leo about my brilliant idea, you know, the one about the gloves, he just looked at me kind of deadpan and mumbled "What took you so long?"  (I'm pretty sure there was a "Duh" implied in there somewhere.)

Whatever. I'm back in the saddle and happy to report that no fingers were harmed in the making of today's face.

Totally worth it

“Your mind is a canvas, 

your experiences are the paint colors 

and your actions are the brushes that show the art in you.”

-- Louise Philippe Dulay

Self portrait 6-29-13

"I search for the realness, 

the real feeling of a subject, 

all the texture around it."

-- Andrew Wyeth

Linoleum block for self portrait 6-30

Inked linoleum block for self portrait 6-30

These are the linoleum block prints that I shed my blood for.

 

There is something about this low-tech, hands-on, gouging out process that is immensely gratifying.

Unlike a photograph, which is a one-step process, a lino-cut self portrait happens in several stages.

First I shoot a photo, then pare it down to it's barest shadows. 

With carbon paper (yes, it still exists, and yes, it's still as much fun to play with as when we were kids) I transfer the image to the un-carved block.

Then, with a really sharp set of carving tools, I remove the material that fills the negative spaces, one little curled shaving at a time, until the image is revealed. This is the part where I am prone to cut myself. I almost always do. Sometimes it's just a little nick. Other times ... well, see yesterday's post about the other times.

Finally, I ink the block and press it onto paper. I can make as few or as many prints as I want to from the same block, and every one will be slightly, uniquely different from all the others. The flaws become assets -- character.

The ink is thick, so the print has texture that I can see and feel. It seems "real-er" than anything that comes out of my computer printer.

Yeah, my finger still hurts and is going to take a long time to heal, but the prints were satisfying enough to take away the sting. It was totally worth the pain.

Left behind

As much as I enjoy digital and other forms of photography, sometimes my artistic appetite craves something a little chewier. Digital photographs are immediate. There is instant gratification. If I don't want the image I just captured, I can easily shoot another, and another, and another -- until there are literally hundreds to choose  from. Today's face is from a linoleum block print that I carved of my face. Carving a linoleum block takes time (this block took me about 3 hours), and therefore patience. You can't rush it. But you can absolutely get lost in the satisfying sort of violence of meticulously gouging away each individual curled bit of unnecessary material until the printing surface is cleanly released. Block prints are all about what is taken away. The printed image is made from what gets left behind. There is only one shot at getting the image right. And be prepared to bleed. I cut myself twice carving the block for this print. It was totally worth it.

Lino block self portrait 1-11-13